


you are home to me

by courante



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29329701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courante/pseuds/courante
Summary: “In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount.”- Haruki Murakami,After Dark
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. mirror mirror

**Author's Note:**

> compilation of canon-compliant drabbles (mostly stemming from their videos/tiktoks/photoshoots) from twitter; AUs are in the other one, tks
> 
> standard disclaimer that a) these are unedited and probably contain 3487 mistakes, b) none of this is real & c) if you're b&e pls close this tab, thank u

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath of blind dating video with edwina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: possessiveness, messing around in public bathrooms

Brett is a patient man, usually. Sometimes he's gotta give concessions over the small things, sometimes life makes him wait a little longer than he'd anticipated, but he isn't one to complain. Usually. Things always worked out fine.

But now, standing behind the camera, he's not so sure he can be patient any longer. The way Eddy keeps making eyes to the camera, to him, grinning and making those gestures like he's so confident. The wig helps, he supposes as he accidentally jostles the camera a little — hopefully Editor-san could fix that — but still.

Of course Brett hadn't been feeling the best when he'd done his portion of this series. But that isn't the point. He isn't envious of that, but oh — there is no reason Eddy had to be acting like this now, with each and every one of the contestants wrapped around his little finger the further they get through the rounds. There is no reason he keeps looking over at Brett in-between takes, sultry like Brett's never seen him do outside the confines of their shared flat, all because nobody else will ever see this footage.

(Briefly, he considers asking their lawyer to review the company NDAs again.)

Brett wants so badly to just leap out of his chair and slam Eddy into the ground, wig and all, but no — gotta be professional. Gotta be patient. Gotta wait. The mantra twists into a knot of burning jealousy at the bottom of his stomach as he watches Zach take Eddy's hand and — 

Fuck.

They've barely finished filming the outro when Eddy feels the consequences of having too much bubble tea beforehand and decides to make a beeline for the nearest restroom.

It's going to be a good video, he reflects as he washes his hands; he's a little buzzed from the adrenaline that hasn't quite worn off yet, a little dazed. What Eddy really needs is a drink, actually, just to keep his vocal cords from frying further. But first — 

Someone grabs him by the wrist from behind and he almost jumps.

"Brett…?"

His first thought is that something's wrong: Eddy's heart skips a beat as he looks up to the mirror and sees Brett's blank face, like he's in a trance. "Are you feeling sick? Is — "

And then he's pushed back against the door of a stall, barred from leaving. It's surprising even now how he moves in accordance with Brett; Eddy stumbles a little, eyes wide as he sees a dark shadow come over Brett's face. "Hey uh, dude, you're scaring me — "

"Good," Brett whispers, and he leans forward so suddenly and so forcefully to kiss Eddy on the lips that he gasps out in as much pain as surprise.

"Th — "

Nobody else is using the restroom, thank god. Brett pulls away ever so slightly, and Eddy could see his own deer in the headlights expression looking back at him from the mirror's depths.

"Someone will see," he breathes heavily, and Brett's hands tightens around his arms. It occurs to Eddy then that maybe this, well… "You don't — you don't have to — "

"Oh, but I do," Brett whispers, staring up at him almost wildly; the kind of look in his eyes reserved for private spaces, for their bedrooms, for… not a public restroom at least, until now. It seems Eddy had underestimated him once again. "You know I do, Eddy. Kissing your hand, really?"

"Brett, I — "

This time, Eddy feels teeth sink into his lips, and he moans in response to Brett pushing against him, fingers digging into the fabric of his jumper. He closes his eyes and meets Brett there then, yielding as he slides downwards a little until they're evenly situated. Brett's tongue flickers against his and he could almost hear the low voice in the back of his head: _mine, mine, mine. You're mine and don't you forget that_.

And then Brett presses a hand on his belt and Eddy simply just — loses himself completely.

Nobody says a word when they come out of the bathroom a little while later, with Eddy desperately wishing he'd still had the wig on. If Brett wants to walk past the contestants with his hair looking like it's gone through a mini nuclear meltdown, that's his prerogative, but.

But.

They thank the remaining people again. Brett's smile remains easygoing and professional as he fistbumps everyone walking out the door, despite the curious look on their faces and the suddenly nervous look on Zach's. Eddy shakes his head apologetically from behind as he departs; well, that's that.

"You proud of yourself now?" He can't help but tease once it's just them left; Ollie mutters something sounding suspiciously like 'get a room' from the other side of the shooting space, but Eddy chooses to ignore him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Brett shrugs, ostensibly nonchalant. But there's pink at the tips of his ears as he looks up defiantly, and that's all Eddy needs, really, as confirmation. "Anyway, let's never fucking do that again."


	2. backalleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> regarding the camel jacket photoshoot

There's nothing new or surprising about this at all, the photographer muses.

She's talking to the new intern about prop placement for the next location when Brett and Eddy walk in, both with hair slightly messier than she'd wanted for the feel of the photos. The stylist exchanges a look with her:  _ as long as this doesn't get any worse. _

TwoSet aren't the worst clients the photographer's had before by a long shot, anyhow. They pay on time and usually don't argue for too long, and the shoots are generally fun. There's an art to averting one's eyes whenever things get a little too heated, but she's fine with that. If her clients are going to get frisky, hey, that's time taken away from haranguing her over lighting or whatnot.

The main prop for this location was a shopping trolley—she's done many shoots like this before, most often with a cutesy couple that can't wait to get their hands all over each other. This will probably be no exception.

"Need any help with that?"

Brett's currently trying his hardest to climb into the trolley, something that the photographer absolutely would not be able to help him with, but she feels compelled to ask anyway. It wouldn't do if one of them got hurt here.

"Nah, it's—"

"Wait wait wait Brett—"

"Eddy  _ no— _ "

She steps away as Eddy walks up from behind suddenly, gently lifting Brett up so that he could clamber into the trolley without the whole thing rolling off merrily into the busy streets beyond the back alley they're currently occupying. It’s kind of cute at just how loud Brett could get when protesting this indignance—not that he’s actually that mad about it, she's sure.

His face is a little red when Eddy finally steps away, and she raises an eyebrow.  _ Oh, please don't start now, I have another appointment after this _ . But Eddy doesn't do anything except reach out and adjust Brett's hat.

"Your pants are a mess, by the way."

"Because you dropped me in!"

Wisely, the photographer says nothing as they squabble, opting to leave them for the stylist to fix up.

  
  


The shoot goes smoothly after that, at least until it's time for Brett to get out of the trolley.

It's rude, maybe, but she pretends to not hear Brett struggling against the metal confines. The photos are great; she'll have fun editing them in the studio later, and that's all she thinks about as she starts packing up for the location move. She could hear Eddy taunting him in a baby voice as she turns her back on them for a second.  _ Children, both of them. _

Then, a loud clatter. She whips her head around and almost yells out  _ are you okay? _ but she just sees the trolley toppled over on the ground with its wheels turning feebly in the air. Brett, for his part, is suspended entirely in Eddy's arms. The crew stares at them, and them back at the crew. 

She takes her camera and aims, thinking just one thing:  _ he looks at home there. _

"He just jumped  _ right  _ in," the intern whispers aloud in wonder, breaking the spell. Everyone starts laughing, and Eddy slides Brett—carefully—to the ground, nevermind the grumpy expression  _ and  _ blush coloring most of his face now. 

"Delete that, oh my god," he groans, finally realizing the camera's still pointed at them. "That was..."

"No no don't, send it to me first— "

The photographer looks at them from left to right, at Brett's fond but exasperated gaze, at Eddy's well-honed puppy eyes. It doesn't take very long for her to decide.

"Alright," she says finally, "But this costs extra."

  
  
  


(Later, at the wedding,  _ that  _ photo pops up again during the ceremony, but that's a story for another day.)


	3. as long as you're happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath of sibelius livestream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i want bubble tea now
> 
> shoutout to kimi to hitsuji to ao for the one line i yoinked a lyric for

afterwards, you find yourself outside: it’s sunny, and people are milling about on the streets as always. a saturday like any other.

you are still breathless, but it’s not hard to hide that behind masks. you’ve taken off your hoodie in the meantime; it’s too hot for that, and you don’t want to give fans a beacon drawing them to you, not today. nor to him; he’s tired, as are you, but exuberant, even if it only manifests in the form of a quick, tight squeeze of your hand as you pass by the billboards and step into the metro station. 

you let him lean onto your shoulder ever so slightly as the train winds its way through the city center. the euphoria does not fade even as you feel the cool air conditioning hit your face, bringing you back to the reality that is: you are standing in front of the ramen place you’ve both been to a thousand times before and eddy asks, can we have this today? and you say ( _ you want to scream _ ) sure, whatever you want ( _ i’ll go wherever you want to go _ .)

the food is good, as always. the waitress recognizes you and tells you congratulations, she’ll catch the video after her shift. eddy smiles and thanks her quietly, and you grasp at his fingers beneath the table. you feel his calluses and think about the glances you stole at him during the stream, the fervor of his playing, the vibrations that played in your heart also. 

(if you shut your eyes now it will still be there, always, the afterimage of him playing inscribed in your mind so deeply, moving you to the marrow of your bones.)

eddy decides to take the long way home; slowly, of course, and after asking you. 

“tell me if you get too tired, hey?”

“i’m fine,” you say, and then just to reassure him, “really. it’s a nice day out.”

it’s when you ask to sit down at a bench that it finally starts to hit: fifty-thousand people, the rate of your collective heartbeats, the sweat beading on his forehead, the tears you swore you saw briefly forming at the corners of his eyes. he’s sat down and looking at you, and briefly you think there is nobody else in the world, no lush green park behind you, no young couples walking their dogs or strollers or flashing billboards above your heads.   
  
“you did good, eddy,” you tell him again. your head swirls and maybe the tiredness is finally catching up with you, but not in an ill way. maybe it’s silly how that still makes him grin so shyly, and how  _ that _ in turn fills you up inside. maybe you’ve made peace with that, maybe you want more.

“ _ we _ did good,” he retorts, so softly, and you want to kiss him there and then. “let’s go home.”

you get bubble tea too, a taxi ride later. original milk tea with pearls, for both. eddy’s still humming parts of the third movement when you enter the elevator, plastic bags jostling one another. your eyes flicker briefly to the camera atop the doors, and you feel his eyes on you.

later, tonight, you might go out and celebrate with the rest of the team. eddy has plans to facetime belle, and you your parents. you’ve gotta find time to respond to those messages your friends have been bombarding you with, and your fans— maybe you’ll give them something to tide them over, for the moment.

but for now, you are content: sitting on the couch, holding him, the taste of bubble tea sweet on your lips. watching the footage back, his soft murmurs in your ear:  _ oh, i messed that up, haha, brett, look at that, what kind of face was i making! _ and you will tell him, again and again, maybe not in words but nonetheless:  _ as long as you’re happy, it’s enough _ .


	4. this is not how you use an apple watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath of the workout video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it doesn't actually get that sexy (smh eddy)

“—Please don’t tell me this was the result of another weird Google search.”

“Then I’ll just not say anything,” Eddy murmurs, shifting position slightly so he won’t crush his watch on accident. He chuckles a little, out of nervousness or something else; it’s kind of cute, kind of dumb. “Okay, okay, maybe it was— kind of— stupid.”

“It is— ack! God,” Brett moans as he feels the hard plastic pressuring his wrist. God, all he wanted was Eddy, not this stupid competition. “Can I just, take this off—”

“Not yet.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he whispers as Eddy kisses him again, harder, on the base of his neck. Good thing he remembered to close the curtains this time. “Dude,  _ Eddy— _ ”

“Did you know—” Eddy whispers now, sultry and so close in his ear, his voice sending shivers down Brett’s spine. It’s coming now, whatever he’s about to do; Brett closes his eyes to enjoy the fingers roaming down his abdomen. “—That the average number of calories burnt during a 24-minute session is... 101?”

“...I change my mind.”


	5. 小羊別哭

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aftermath of the teaching in chinese video

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day :^)
> 
> translations of the mandarin parts can be found [here](https://twitter.com/j1nse/status/1360402678245781505).

"Eddy," Brett said, quietly, almost indecipherable, "You, um, 那個，過來一下。"

"Bro, what?" It was highly unusual for Brett to even speak to him in Chinese, much less initiating — well, their guests were packing up and leaving the room already, maybe he wanted to say something about the filming. Eddy thought it had gone quite well, considering the chaos. "怎麽了?"

"你。。。" The long pause was cause for an eyebrow raise. He didn't look too well, but to Eddy it looked less like the illness induced kind of pain he'd seen on Brett's face way too many times over the last few months and more, perhaps, something else. He reached out and touched Brett's shoulder lightly. 

"Everything okay?"

"不好。"

"You sound like a kid," Eddy joked, but felt Brett's hand on his, tight, compulsive. He blinked. "嗯?"

"剛剛，你在看他。"

In a petulant, almost whiny tone. Eddy's used to it, but coming out of his own mouth instead; he stares at Brett, who's decidedly looking away, and maybe a little red. Looking at who?

Oh. 

"。。。是嫉妒嗎。"

"Shut up," Brett mumbled as Eddy leaned in closer. Oh, this was funny, even if he felt a bit bad. "I— nevermind. I don't know."

"我只是高興他學得很快喔。"

"Okay, oka—  _ Eddy _ !"

It felt good to hug him like this, publicly, a declaration even in an empty room. Eddy could feel Brett struggling uselessly against his arms, finally conceding after a few moments as he buried his face in Eddy's chest with a huff. "You're embarrassing."

"Says the guy who— "

"Don't push it," Brett murmured, and Eddy didn't, opting to stay in position for a while longer. "Just— "

"I'll watch it next time," he said, kissing the top of Brett's forehead. "Okay? 就原諒我吧。"

"。。。嗯，好。"

(The giggling heard from outside the door was, well, another story.)


End file.
